Tomb Raider: Forgotten Savior
by The Odd Little Turtle
Summary: Rewrite. The Monstrum strikes again.  In search of the Martichoras puzzle pieces, Lara must face her past, present and future and save the world from the Great Work of the Nephilim.  Who are the Covenant, and what do they have to do with anything? ch 7 up
1. Prologue

**Tomb Raider: Forgotten Savior**

**By:** The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent and a few others used in this story belong to EIDOS. The original story belongs to me as well as a few characters that are made by me (noted in future chapters).

**A/N:** If you've never read this story before, that's good, you aren't missing anything. If you've read this story before, it's been tweaked a bit from its original formula. The chapters up until 3 are the same with a few grammatical errors fixed (or perhaps made worse?) and a sentence or two added here and there for clarification. It's been 2 years, going on 3 since I've done anything with it and I forgot what was going on. The entire storyline is different (I think) from what was originally planned. (I can't decipher my notes… lol)

BTW - I've thrown in bits and pieces from the books Tomb Raider: The Lost Cult, Tomb Raider: The Man of Bronze, and Tomb Raider: The Amulet of Power. I want VADS for myself complete with explosive rounds! Yay! I would have so much fun at the gun range!!

**Prologue**

**Last Time:** Tomb Raider: The Angel of Darkness: _Just as Lara made to strike the final blow to the Black Alchemist, Joachim Karel did the job for her. Karel revealed himself to be a Nephilim and seeking to continue the Great Work of reviving the Sleeper and the Nephilim race. Lara managed to destroy the Black Alchemist's lab with Karel and the Sleeper inside._

_It wasn't supposed to end up like this_, Kurtis Trent thought ruefully as he watched his blood pool around him. _Talk about "out of body experience,"_ he thought. He coughed, pain jetting through his limbs from his abdomen. Lights exploded in front of his already hazy vision. The metallic taste of blood hit his tongue and realized he was internally bleeding.

_Well, duh_, he thought disdainfully. _One tends to bleed if they're impaled._

He couldn't believe he was thinking thoughts of death. Where was his fighting spirit?

_Draining out of my body with my blood?_

He could feel his ego reel with that remark, and he would have given a smug laugh, but he was a bit down and out as it were.

"It seems I have to get you out of another mess, Trent," a familiar baritone voice said from his right. Craning his neck he saw Marten Gunderson walking up, pistol aimed at Kurtis' head. Kurtis didn't have enough strength to use Telekinesis on him.

_Damn._

Kurtis worked his lips briefly before asking, "Did Croft get Eckhart?"

"I do not know," Gunderson said, holstering his weapon, and kneeling down beside Kurtis, "Come, we must leave."

"I'm not leaving until I know Eckhart is dead, Gunderson," Kurtis told him angrily, his breath coming in heaving gasps, blood trickling from his mouth, stinging his parched lips. Had he been standing, he would have spoken with his hands and walked away, away towards Eckhart's lab. He had to see for himself. Unfortunately, he could do nothing but lay there helplessly, his strength ebbing as his very life drained from his body with his blood. Gunderson turned the impaled man over wondering how he could still be conscious after receiving such a wound. _Perhaps because of his telekinesis,_ Gunderson thought as he inspected the wound.

"You are losing a lot of blood, Trent," Gunderson told him, "You will die if you lie here waiting for the Tomb Raider. We must get you to a hospital."

Trent's mouth set in annoyance. "Why are you helping me?"

"I owe you one for Japan," was all Gunderson said, dug in his pockets for something to staunch the flow of blood.

"You hit me in the back of the head earlier," Kurtis grumbled. He wasn't going to let his ex-boss forget that little indiscretion. Gunderson did owe him for Japan. And Beijing. And Peru. And Zaire.

"Would you prefer I shot you?" Gunderson wadded up gauze and pressed it into both wounds, Kurtis letting out a hiss of pain. The larger man wrapped Kurtis' middle as best he could.

Kurtis surprised him by being silent while Gunderson worked on his bandage. When he spoke again, his voice was distant. "You used me against Lara."

"No," Gunderson said, "Master Eckhart used you against the Tomb Raider. Stop arguing with me, Trent, and let us get moving."

Gunderson picked Kurtis' deadweight up, draping an arm over his shoulder, his big hand gripping Kurtis' belt for leverage. Kurtis protested weakly, but did not say much else as they proceeded to leave the Strahov. Only a few minutes later, Eckhart's lab blew up.

Lara Croft entered the room soon after that, holding her middle, taking in the blood spilt on the floor. She saw Kurtis' flying disc near the edge of the stain and picked it up. He'd tried to use it against her once. It flew to life in her hand, pointing in the direction she was certain Kurtis had gone. With a triumphant smile she set off towards the late Boaz's chambers.

Nearly half an hour after that, another Lara Croft entered the same room holding a bleeding wound on her arm, burn marks apparent on her muscular arms and legs. Her brown eyes gazed at the large creature's oozing remains, the beheaded harpy-like Boaz lying away from it. She took in the dried blood on the floor, eyed the bloody footprints around the stain with much trepidation. _Was that Kurtis' blood?_ She wondered. She looked around the room. There was no way to get back up to that platform without Kurtis' help. She would not be able to get out the same way she came in.

She stared at the foreboding darkness of the room the mutated form of Boaz had come out of. Taking a deep breath, she walked through the door.

-----

_Reviews __always welcome__. I love constructive criticism. I want your honest opinion and if I've made any spelling or grammatical errors (so embarrassing!). If it completely tanks, give me your opinion on what should be done to fix it. (Not a guarantee it will/can be fixed.)_

_Up next?__Chapter 1, of course._


	2. Chapter 1: Hello

**Tomb Raider: Forgotten Savior**

**By:** The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent and a few others used in this story belong to EIDOS. The original story belongs to me as well as a few characters that are made by me (noted in future chapters).

**A/N:** If you've never read this story before, that's good, you aren't missing anything. If you've read this story before, it's been tweaked a bit from its original formula. The chapters up until 3 are the same with a few grammatical errors fixed (or perhaps made worse?) and a sentence or two added here and there for clarification. It's been 2 years, going on 3 since I've done anything with it and I forgot what was going on. The entire storyline is different (I think) from what was originally planned. (I can't decipher my notes… lol)

Flashbacks are in _ITALICS_, little dashes delineate change of scene. . .

**Chapter One****: Hello…**

**Last time:** _Marten Gunderson saves Kurtis Trent, and they get out of the Strahov just as Eckhardt's lab blows. An injured Lara Croft stumbles across to Kurtis' Chirugai and picks it up. She follows it though the double doors. __A little while later another Lara Croft enters the same room with a different injury.__ This one looks at the blood on the floor and walks through the double doors._

**One year later…**

Kurtis Trent flipped the television off in disgust. He didn't want to see any more. It was showing yet another report of the Tomb Raider's exploits. This time it was a tour of some museum showcasing some relic from Peru. Since Lara Croft had cleared her name—and Interpol was now looking for him, he added to himself angrily— her celebrity status had escalated, and now she was just about on every channel or at least her relics were.

_And she still has my Chirugai!_

He raked a hand through his chestnut hair and looked at the stained ceiling. He'd been holed up in this hotel for only two days, but he was restless and wanted to get out of there. It had taken him almost six months in a Polish hospital to recover from his stabbing. Now, back on his feet, he was back to work for Gunderson. This mission he was to recover a missing artifact, assassinate the thief and get the hell out. Two days into the mission, and thus far the thief was a no show. Deciding he had nothing better to do, he took out his Boran X and began to clean it. He was midway through when there was a knock at his door.

_Terrific,_ he thought irritably, looking at his disassembled weapon. Summoning his psychic energy, he thrust out both hands in front of him, palms up. His vision blurred red as his mind's eye poured forth and swept across the room and to the door. Going beyond the door, he saw Lara Croft. She looked the same as she had a year before, tall, trim, impossibly feminine. Dark eyes hidden behind shades, her long hair tied back in a ponytail accentuating her facial bones that were delicately carved, her mouth kissably full. Two pistols strapped to her hips that tapered into long legs.

Surprised with where his mind was going just by looking at her, his mind's eye came back to him with a jolt, nearly knocking him down. He gave a grunt.

"Kurtis?" Lara's voice called from beyond the door. "Are you there?"

Wondering how the hell she'd found out where he was, Kurtis grabbed his extra pistol, a Baby Eagle. Paris and Prague had taught him a lesson.

"Yeah?" he said, however it came out more like a question. He edged toward the door, pistol drawn, holding it out in front of him two handedly.

"It's Lara," she told him.

"Where's my Chirugai?" he asked through closed the door.

Lara blinked. Surely the Yank wasn't being obtuse. It was only that morning she'd found out that he was still alive.

"Your what?" she asked dumbly.

"I told you in the hospital what it was," he told her, remembering their conversation nearly eight months prior.

------------------------------

_Lara Croft stepped into the room just as Gunderson was leaving. Kurtis had no idea as to why Gunderson kept checking in on him, but as he was in bed with a wound that didn't seem to want to heal up properly, Kurtis had no choice but to deal with the man._

"_Lara?" Kurtis asked, quite surprised she had come to visit him. He didn't even know that she knew he was still alive._

"_Hullo, Kurtis," she said with a smile, her voice a velvet murmur with a British accent._

"_How—"_

"_That brute of man who just walked out the door," she said, her elegant fingers bunching, the thumb pointing back at Gunderson's hulking back. Her face twisted in disgust. "Really, how can you stand him?"_

_Kurtis only chuckled. _If she only knew_, he thought._

"_Thanks for coming," he said soberly._

"_I only dropped by to see how you were feeling and to see if you needed anything," she told him hastily._

"_I'm doing good," he gave in reply, "Out of the red anyway." He paused taking in her appearance. She wore loose black pants and a black long sleeve turtleneck sweater. A brown weathered pack was strapped to her back. He recognized it immediately as what she called her lucky backpack. She wasn't wearing her twin holsters or her Black Demons from what he could tell. _Hell, knowing her, she probably hid them in her bra_, he thought. He shook his head to clear it. No sense in thinking those kinds of thoughts. Thoughts like those were dangerous._

"_That's good." She took off her pack and placed it on the bed near his feet. "I would have been here sooner, but I had to finish some business." She didn't elaborate, but opened her pack and took out a circular object._

"_My Chirugai!"__ Kurtis exclaimed recognizing the gift from his father, receiving a shocked expression from Lara_

"_So this is yours," she said. "I was just about to ask you about it. I found it in Boaz's chambers with several liters of blood on the floor." She locked gazes with him, studied him a moment. "How do you control it?"_

"_Telekinesis," was the only answer he was willing to give. "Yeah, the blood was __mine__ too," he continued, "Boaz was easy enough. Wasn't expecting her to come in two parts or get up when I thought I'd finished her off." He gestured to his middle._

"_Gunderson told me you were almost paralyzed." She locked eyes with him, emotion evident in their dark depths, though her tone remained neutral._

_He nodded, suppressing a shudder. "Less than an inch to the left," he said. "It got me at an angle. Hurt like hell."_

"_I'm sure." In a defensive gesture, she folded her arms across her chest, her fingers wrapping around the dark fabric of her sleeves. She didn't say anything for a moment._

_Tired of the uncomfortable silence between them, Kurtis asked, "So are you going to leave it here?"_

"_Your weapon?" she asked, and then smiled, her eyes sparkling like obsidian, "No, I think you should come and get it when you get out. They may try to confiscate it."_

"_You're inviting me to your home?"_

_She handed him a business card. "What's wrong with that?" He took it and studied it. It gave the London address of the Croft Foundation offices and the business telephone. _

"_My satellite cell number is on the back," she told him. "Ring me when you get out and we'll arrange a meeting. Or you can call Croft Foundation and set up an appointment with Gwenn. __Your choice."_

_He had no idea who Gwenn was, but he nodded and reached for his wallet on the stand beside his bed. Lara stopped him with a hand on his forearm. _

"_Keep that up, and you'll never get out of here," she said, picking up his wallet and opening it. She took back the business card and slid it in behind his money. He said nothing as she studied his ID._

"_Kurtis Trent?"_

"_That's me."_

_She replaced his wallet and shouldered her pack._

"_Have a good recovery," she told him with a smile, reached out and patted his shoulder. "I'll see you when you get out."_

_Lara turned to leave, but Kurtis halted her escape with a firm hand on her arm. Had he not been so focused on Eckhardt, he would have noted the electric spiders that danced through him at the thought of touching her._

"_Eckhardt's dead?" Kurtis' breath caught in his throat, his chest tight, his emotions wound tight._

"_Without a doubt," she replied without hesitation. Powerful relief flowed through him. His father's murderer was dead._

"_Did he suffer?"_

_"I hope so," she said. She hesitated. "I wasn't able to kill him however. Karel stepped in and did the job for me, just as I was about to." Her voice died away, her eyes glazing over in remembrance. She looked directly at him, chocolate eyes almost black in the florescent lighting of the dingy hospital room. "Karel stabbed Eckhardt in the head with the last shard."_

"_What?" Kurtis blinked. Eckhardt's men turned against him? __Gunderson and Karel?__ He let out a long, audible breath, stared straight ahead in disbelief. Gunderson he could understand. _But Karel? What was in it for him?

"_There's more, but I'm hesitant to tell you," she said not meeting his eyes. "I haven't gotten over it as of yet. I would prefer to wait until our next meeting."_

"_The Cubiculum Nephili?"_

"_The lab was destroyed," she told him. __"Along with Karel and the Sleeper.__ I've not yet returned, however. Interpol has been keeping me busy."_

"_Yeah, you're all over the news."_

_She nodded with a roll of her eyes._

"_I'll see you in a few weeks," he told her reaching out, wondering if she would shake his hand or kick it away as she'd done in the airlock. She paused, looked at his hand, and gave a knowing smile as she shook it. Her hand was smooth with only a few calluses on her fingertips. _Of course_, he thought, _she wore gloves when she adventured

"_Bye__ then," she said and walked out._

_It was two months later that he was able to get out. When he called the cell phone number on the card, the number belonged to someone else. Irritated that she'd given him a wrong number he called Croft Foundation._

"_I'm sorry, Mr. Trent," her secretary told him over the phone, "Miss Croft is meeting with a biologist in South America. I haven't been told when she'll get back. Shall I ring you when she returns to set up an appointment to meet?"_

"_That'll be fine," he said. "She gave me a cell phone number but it was the wrong number."_

"_A cellular phone?" the secretary seemed confused. "I wasn't aware that Miss Croft carried one in the field."_

"_Then why would she give me a number for one that she said she carried?"_

"_I'm not sure, sir. May I have a number where to ring you when she returns?"_

"_Huh? __Oh, sure."__ He spouted off two numbers, his cell and his flat. "If I'm not home, leave a message and call my cell. If I don't answer, leave a voice message."_

"_Yes, sir."_

_He hung up and looked at the phone as if it had grown horns._

_-----------------------------------_

Lara stared at the door in confusion.

_Hospital?_ She'd never visited Kurtis in a hospital. What was he talking about? Deciding to play it safe, she answered, "Oh, right. It's at my home."

The door swung open. Kurtis stood there, devilishly handsome, dressed only in low wasted cargos and a shoulder holster. His pistol was pointed squarely at her chest. He looked tough, lean and sinewy. A healing scar marred his abs, stained pink against bronze. Another, much older, etched itself across his left peck. Kurtis' expression was that of disbelief mixed with another emotion, possibly anger. She wondered if it was because she thought him dead. She had not been able to find his body.

She rested her hands on her matching pistols, a shot of adrenaline coursing through her veins. This would indeed be an interesting adventure.

"You left it?" He couldn't believe her. He thought if she wouldn't meet with him, she would at least be kind enough to bring his property back. He wasn't dead, and he wasn't an ancient tomb. It was his property, damn it.

"I wasn't expecting you to be the one they hired," she said, cocked her head to the side, "Stop pointing your weapon at me."

He looked at her tiredly but lowered his gun.

"May I come in?" she asked. Kurtis looked back at his small hotel room then back at her. He shrugged and holstered his gun, opening the door wider as a gesture to enter.

She did so and took in the room. Had she been in his place, she would have told her employers where to stick it. The room was dirty, the bed looked lumpy and everything was stained. A strange odor wafted through the room, a blend of urine, dirt and cigarettes. She observed a few cockroaches on the tiny table near the covered window, noted the cigarette butts in the ashtray there.

"You're sleeping in this?"

He shrugged, unapologetic as he leaned against the doorframe. "Have to keep a low profile."

"Ah," was all she said remembering her time in Paris, the cold subway car. On many of her various expeditions she camped out. But roughing it was one thing, this was quite another.

"Unlike someone," he added. She could have sworn he sounded displeased. Irked, she rounded on him.

"What's that supposed to mean, Kurtis?"

"Nothing." His face was neutral; his eyes however were intense. "Was just watching your finds on television"

Lara rolled her eyes at that. Just the reaction he'd been hoping for. Lara Croft hated fame. His neutral face split into a grin.

"So what brings you here?" he asked, closing the door and going to the coffee pot that rested on the little table by the window. "Coffee?"

"An artifact," she answered as vaguely as she thought possible, crossed and sat gingerly on the lumpy bed. "And no, thank you."

He poured himself a cup and held it to his lips. "How did you find me?"

"Interpol," she answered as he began to sip his coffee. He promptly spewed it out and sputtered as he choked.

She raised an eyebrow. "Now you see why I don't drink coffee."

Kurtis slammed the cup on the small table, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "How the hell does Interpol know where I am?"

"You've been under surveillance for quite some time now," she told him, her face neutral.

"That's just terrific." He sat next to her on the bed, the lumpy mattress pushing her up higher as his weight sank down into the bed. He sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

"You can lie low at my place if you wish," she offered, not really knowing why she did. Dools would have a field day with that one.

"Let me guess, you'll give me your card and a cell and not return my calls right?" he asked angrily as he stood, the mattress sinking in on her. Lara only sat there dumbfounded, perplexed by his sudden mood shift.

"Actually," she said, surprising him, "as I consider you a friend and colleague, I was going to give you my private line to my home. In fact, my colleagues are always there. You could drop by whenever you please."

"You gave me your cell last time."

She blinked as if confused. "In the hospital?"

"No, in the bakery," he said sarcastically, and then at her truly dumbfounded expression he all but yelled, "Yes, in the hospital. You said to contact you when I got out and you would give me back my Chirugai. You also said you had something disturbing to discuss. You told me about Eckhardt and Karel. And how Karel turned on his master.

"You were in South America when I called Croft Foundation. Your secretary told me you would call me back. I've called three times since then and that was three months ago."

"I wasn't given the messages, Kurtis," Lara said, swept a wayward strand of hair from her eyes with nimble fingers, "but I've been very busy the last few months. I'll speak with Gwenn once I'm back in England."

"Yeah, you do that." He sighed. He sat back on the bed, again the mattress lumped up under her uncomfortably and the springs groaned with exertion.

"So what artifact are you looking for?" he asked, not really interested, but just wanting to get his mind on different things.

"The same one you are."

-----

_Reviews__always __welcome__. I love constructive criticism. I__ want your honest opinion__ and if I've made any spelling or grammatical errors (so embarras__sing!). If it completely tanks, give me your opinion on what should be done to fix it.__ (Not a guarantee it will/can be fixed.)_

_Up next?__Chapter 2__, of course.__ You didn't think I'd reveal anything did you?_


	3. Chapter 2: Dead Bodies Everywhere

**Tomb Raider: Forgotten Savior**

**By:** The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent and a few others used in this story belong to EIDOS. The original story belongs to me as well as a few characters that are made by me, such as Ahmed Istathir.

**A/N:** If you've never read this story before, that's good, you aren't missing anything. If you've read this story before, it's been tweaked a bit from its original formula. The chapters up until 3 are the same with a few grammatical errors fixed (or perhaps made worse?) and a sentence or two added here and there for clarification. It's been 2 years, going on 3 since I've done anything with it and I forgot what was going on. The entire storyline is different (I think) from what was originally planned. (I can't decipher my notes… lol)

Flashbacks are in _ITALICS_, little dashes delineate change of scene. . .

**Chapter Two****: Dead Bodies Everywhere…**

**Last time:** _Lara meets up with Kurtis in a hole-in-the-wall motel and reveals that she is looking for the same artifact he has been hired to find. Their exact location has not been disclosed. Kurtis remembers her hospital visit months back, when Gunderson put him in t__he Polish__ clinic__ (shot to pieces__ in _Tomb Raider: The Lost Cult_, but it is apparent that Lara does not, nor does she seem to have Kurtis' flying weapon. _

"VADS: double nitro."

Kurtis looked over at Lara from his crouched position behind a boulder. She was crouched to his left, her guns lowered as she spoke to the variable ammunition delivery system (or VADS) computer via the wireless headset in her ear.

It was almost slow motion as Lara raised her Heckler & Koch USP match pistols, ejecting the empty magazines, and lowered the guns to her hips where small crablike socket arms waited ready with the new magazines. The magazines clicked into place, and she stood, firing repeatedly then immediately somersaulting to her right, landing in a crouch next to him.

The building she'd hit promptly blew up, the wary cries of the Cabal members assaulting his ears. He found himself immensely envious of the shiny black contraption about her slender waist.

"What the hell was that, Croft?"

"Explosive bullets of course," was all she offered. "Took care of those chaps, didn't it?"

He rolled his blue eyes heavenward, but gave her a grin just the same. "You took all the fun out of it."

"Oh, did I?" She ejected the used magazines. "Sorry. I thought it was loads of fun." She smirked playfully. "You know-- big boom and all."

He only harrumphed, checked his last magazine. At least he still had a few bullets left for his Boran X. He wondered why, since Eckhardt was dead, the Cabal was still out and about, but then remembered his history. Even after the Lux Veritatis had originally imprisoned Eckhardt in 1445, the Cabal and his Lux Veritatis brethren waged their wars.

He looked out at the weird outcroppings of rock, the tall columns of stone, the spiked tops, as if they were arrows pointing to Heaven. The Cappadocia landscape was, by far, the most interesting sight he'd seen in his travels. The hills looked like frozen waves of stone, the aptly named "fairy chimneys" were many, and the caves made great hiding places for humans, good or bad. It was only his second visit, but he never expected the Sleeper to have been buried here or that the Cabal would be chasing them across the hillsides.

Ever since yesterday, when Lara made her unexpected appearance, the Cabal had been right on their trail. They'd followed the two adventurers out of Kayseri and to the bank of the Kizilirmak River. They were almost to Ortahisar when the Cabal had caught up to them.

Lara's brown eyes met his own. "You have any ammo left?" There was a lethal calmness in her eyes.

He gave a nod. "This is my last clip." He slid the magazine into the Boran X's custom grip.

"And you're sure these guys are Cabal members?"

Again he nodded. "Their symbol. It's tattooed on the backs of their hands."

Lara visibly shuttered, there was a spark of some indefinable emotion in her eyes. She spoke into the mike on her ear. "VADS: right fléchette, left armor." The fresh magazines appeared with a click in the arm sockets of the system about her waist. She lowered her guns and slammed the magazines into her guns.

An audible snapping of a branch sounded to their right and both Lara and Kurtis backed up against the boulder, guns ready. Kurtis gestured for her to go left and he would go right. She shook her head, mouthed, "Save your ammo."

He didn't have time to respond when she popped up from her crouch and fired off her right USP once. She was down again before he heard the thump of the Cabal member's body. He knew what a fléchette bullet could do. It basically made chop suey of soft objects. He had no desire to see the mutilated remains of the body. The member had been dead before he hit the ground.

"I think that was the last one," she whispered.

"Right. Let's go then."

They made their way back to the rented Rubicon parked just beyond the ledge. Having stopped at the abandoned house to see if their mysterious artifact thief had dropped in, they had left it in a nearby cavern, just out of sight of passers-by. Unfortunately, the Cabal had been waiting for them when they exited the house.

The only evidence of the thief being there was his notebook, which Lara promptly stuffed in her lucky pack. He hadn't even a chance to look at it or even ask for it when Lara had left the cottage. He had followed her but the sounds of bullets sliding into chambers silenced any and all small talk he had planned.

_------------------------_

_Kurtis looked at the dozen men, their faces masked in black and white, their bodies large and bulky, clothed in matching black jumpsuits. The only skin showing was that of their right hands. The red tattoo of the Nephilim, the same that had marred the inside flesh of Eckhardt's hand and the walls of those he murdered, stood out on the backs of them._

_Fear, stark and vivid, tore at his heart. _Eckhardt. Alive?_ Lara promised. His eyes cut to hers, a deep, unaccustomed pain in his chest. His straight glance accused her coldly, his eyes becoming like bits of stone._

"_I thought you killed Eckhardt."_

_She hesitated, blinking with bafflement. "I didn't." Biting her lip, she looked away from his angry stare. "Karel did." _That's what she said before_, he thought._

"_Is Eckhardt dead?" he whispered harshly._

"_Yes, Karel killed him." She gave him a black-layered look. __"Stabbed him in the head with the last shard."_

_That wasn't good enough. He probed further. "But you made sure he was dead?"_

_Lara turned to him, incredulous. She all but shouted, "He had a Periapt shard in his head. He couldn't have been deader! I took his glove and the Sanglyph. I used the Sanglyph on the Sleeper. The lab exploded. I came out looking for you, but you were nowhere to be found."__ Her last sentence almost sounded accusatory. He ignored the tone._

"_Gunderson found you."_

_She gave him a confused look before the Cabal separated them._

_He had a knife stashed in his boot. He wondered if they were going to get around to frisking him or if he could use his Telekinesis to take a few of them out with it._

_He gave Lara a telepathic "push", was surprised that her mind pushed him back out. There were non-telepaths out there that were resistant to telepathy. Lara must have been one of them. He tried again, this time got through._

The boulders there. We can use them for cover.

Right._ Her voice in his mind was faint, yet a bit deeper than her usual tone._

_He went over a strategy with her, and after a minor disagreement, they acted in unison, Kurtis spinning and delivering a roundhouse kick to the Cabal member closest to him, pushing the others out of the way with his mind. Lara, who had dropped to all fours to get out of the way of his telekinetic blast, rolled to her right and scooped up the three guns from the fallen members who had taken their weapons. They sprinted for the boulders he indicated that blocked the path to the Rubicon parked just beyond the ledge. Both made it around the boulders before the first round of bullets glanced off the volcanic rock. He wished he had his Chirugai. It would have been nice just to throw his glaive with his mind. Then none of them would have been shooting at __them now. Lara threw him his Boran __X__ and he began to fire back at the Cabal members. He used up his four spare clips on them while Lara had used the strange black computer around her waist._

_--------------------------_

Kurtis didn't protest when Lara hopped in the driver's seat and started the engine. She unfastened the VADS system from around her waist and removed the computer from her back. He jumped up and into the passenger side, fastening his seat belt as he did. Lara drove only a short distance before they found a campsite and another Rubicon. Its engine smoked and the hood was up. Lara immediately strapped her equipment back on.

Kurtis got out of the Jeep. "Looks like the camp's been abandoned."

"Looks can be deceiving," was all Lara said, her left gun drawn.

The wind changed position and the smell hit them full in the face. Whatever was at the camp was definitely dead. He almost gagged. The sound of flies came next, the sound making its way to him from the bullet riddled tent. He saw two booted feet sticking out, was hesitant at what he might find. Images of finding the body of his father coming rushing back; he had to take several deep breaths to keep himself from losing it. It had been three years now. And yet… and yet, the Cabal was still around. Had the Black Alchemist found a way to protect himself from the Periapt Shards?

He shook himself and looked around for Lara.

She was inspecting the smoking Rubicon. "Ambush," she said quietly as he joined her. Bullet holes riddled the grill and the windshield. Parts had been salvaged from the engine. It was still warm, yet by the stench, the corpse in the tent had been there a good deal longer than the jeep.

"Raiders?" he asked.

She gave a shrug. "Who knows? Find anything?"

He tilted his head toward the tent in which wafted the odor. "Two feet in the entrance of the tent. Not looking forward to going through it though." Lara said nothing, only continued to study the vehicle.

"This is who we're looking for. This is Ahmed Istathir"

"You sure?"

"The license plate." She pulled out a leather bound notebook from her backpack, flipped to a page near the back. The number-letter combination matched that of the Rubicon sitting in front of them.

Upon searching the rotting remains of the body in the tent, they found the artifact they were looking for. It seemed whoever had ambushed the man, had fled once they had raided the Rubicon of its salvageable parts.

Kurtis studied the artifact in his hand as Lara sped across the expanse of Turkey back to Kayseri. Only a fragment of the original, it was made of copper, its original color long lost. It was a sick green color now. The facing of the artifact itself was that of a human head fringed with the mane of a lion. The mouth was agape with three rows of teeth. The eyes were hollowed out like they had once been represented by something, jewels perhaps. The back was grooved as though it fit into something. _Like a key._ Engraved on the front was the Latin, "_Producto__produxi__productum_."

"Bring to light." He pointed at the engraving. Lara gave a half smile.

"So you _can_ read," she teased. "I was wondering about that."

Kurtis rolled his azure eyes. "Very funny."

"Yes, quite."

"So what exactly is it?" he asked.

"You were sent to pickpocket it from a pick pocket, and you don't know what it is?"

"So tell me, why don'tcha?"

"It's the head of a Manticore," she said cryptically.

"Manticore? As in the human-headed, lion-bodied, porcupine beast of lore?"

"Something like that." She gave a grin. "This particular piece dates back a few thousand years. Pre-Christ. Possibly Pre-Adamic."

"What's so special about this piece?"

"It belongs in a museum in Egypt. And it's only one of three. The rest of its body and tail."

Kurtis nodded, perplexed as to why someone would want to steal something that looked like it belonged in a junkyard. Oh, well. _One man's garbage was another's treasure._ Or so he'd heard.

-----

_Reviews__always __ welcome__. I love constructive criticism. I__ want your honest opinion__ and if I've made any spelling or grammatical errors (so embarras__sing!). If it completely tanks, give me your opinion on what should be done to fix it.__ (Not a guarantee it will/can be fixed.)_

_Up next?__Chapter __3__, of course.__ You didn't think I'd reveal anything did you?_


	4. Chapter 3: She's a Man Eater

**Tomb Raider: Forgotten Savior**

**By:** The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent and a few others used in this story belong to EIDOS. The original story belongs to me as well as a few characters that are made by me, such as Ahmed Istathir and Arba.

**A/N:** If you've never read this story before, that's good, you aren't missing anything. If you've read this story before, it's been tweaked a bit from its original formula. The chapters up until 3 are the same with a few grammatical errors fixed (or perhaps made worse?) and a sentence or two added here and there for clarification. It's been 2 years, going on 3 since I've done anything with it, and I forgot what was going on. The entire storyline is different (I think) from what was originally planned. (I can't decipher my notes… lol)

Flashbacks are in _ITALICS_, little dashes delineate change of scene. . .

**Chapter Three****: She's a Man Eater…**

**Last time:** _Masked members of the Cabal ambush Kurtis Trent and Lara Croft in Cappadocia. Kurtis suspects that Lara has not been completely truthful with him. They find the artifact they were looking for: the Head of Manticore with the backing like that of a key. The man who had it is dead, shot to death by unknown assailants, his vehicle stripped of parts. It's been three days since Kurtis delivered the artifact to Gunderson._

Gunderson watched with placid gray eyes as he handed over the piece wondering what the man standing in front of him intended to do with it. Not that it really mattered. Another of his agents would be stealing it within two weeks anyway. The Master had been very specific, and the pay was much better than this idiot.

"Finally," the man said. "Martichoras. The Man-Eater." His voice grated on Gunderson's last nerve. However, Gunderson was never one to upset a paying client and said nothing, only observed.

The man handled the object with much more care than it had seen in the last few days, his withered hands almost caressing it. His wizened features contorted into a makeshift smile, his teeth rotten, some missing, all misshapen. One eye was brown, moist with life; the other was a pale blue, glazed over without life, a glass eye. A jagged scar ran from his eyelid of the lifeless eye to his jaw. His eyebrows were like bushy white caterpillars crawling over his odd eyes. His salt and pepper hair was thin and slicked back with either too much hair gel or too much sweat. Gunderson couldn't tell which. The man's bony body was hunched over as if carrying a great burden on his ancient shoulders.

Gunderson waited patiently for his client to finish inspecting the object. Like everything he did, there was no point in rushing. Careful, controlled, patient. There would be time for action later. His hulking frame was cramped by the tightness of the space of the man's office. Gunderson put a finger in his collar and pulled back the itchy black turtleneck to alleviate some of the tightness.

While he waited, he studied the room in which they were. What he assumed to be antiques and possibly artifacts littered the small space. Cisterns and vases hung from the ceiling, many depicting Grecian scenes, others Chinese scenes, and yet others depicting Hindu scenes. Crates of various sizes were stacked on each other, some opened revealing the packaging, others just lying there. Most of the labels were Czech and Polish, but there were some in Chinese, Latin, Sudanese and Turkish. The Turkish containers caught his attention, and he stepped closer to look into one of the closer crates. The top of a cistern looked back placidly. Not knowing much about ancient times and the like, he merely marveled at the intricate carving about the parameter of the portion he could see. He looked back at the wizened client still gaping at the Head of the Manticore or whatever it was called. He stood stoically looking ahead, his large hands clasped behind his back and waited again.

"Payment, Herr Arba?" he asked after a while. Arba regarded him carefully, his eyes squinting as if he'd only just realized that Gunderson was standing there. Gunderson only gazed straight ahead as if he weren't offended. It was not his place to be offended, only to get what he came for: payment for the job. Getting Trent to even work for him was like pulling the teeth of a tyrannosaurus rex. Absently he patted the pocket of his trench coat that held Lara Croft's book, _A Tyrannosaur Is Jawing at My Head_.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Gunderson." He clutched the artifact to his chest as he rounded the desk and opened the drawer. Gunderson's hand went to the hilt of his gun at his waist as a matter of precaution. Arba withdrew a thick, non-descript envelope and handed it over to him.

Not trusting him in the least, Gunderson answered in staid calmness, yet his tone brooked no argument. "I will count it here."

Arba regarded him silently a moment before nodding his pointed head and blinking several times. "Yes, of course."

-------------

_It would be whole once more. __The Martichoras.__Only two more to retrieve.__The Body.__The Tail.__ Then…then!_

The Legendary was in his hands. His! It was his. _For the Covenant.__For the future_.

The Agency had sent the best, the male named Trent. Though Trent had that nasty habit of talking to himself, he had proven to the Covenant that he was truly the best. It had taken only a week to retrieve the artifact from Istathir. And now it would only be a bit longer before the other two pieces were recovered. The Martichoras was an integral part of the Ritual. It needed to be whole. It needed him to find the rest. It mattered little that Istathir was the head archeologist of the dig site near the ruins of the Temple of Horus. It only mattered that the artifact, the Martichoras was now back with the Covenant.

The artifact was tinted green as age had oxidized the copper. The sapphires were missing from the eyes, but they were easily replaced. He turned over the object and gazed expectantly at the map on the back. Unfortunately, it was too cryptic for him to decipher without Istathir's notebook. Trent had said that the Tomb Raider had it. Arba wondered a moment how she had gotten it, and why she would want the notebook without the puzzle pieces. He shrugged it off indifferently. He would get the notebook from Lara Croft and find the rest of the pieces. Martichoras would live again.

He resisted the urge to laugh with glee as Marten Gunderson, head of the Agency counted the money in the package. The large bald man nodded after counting and took his leave.

Arba turned the object over again to gaze at the face of the Man-Eater, and this time did not suppress his smile of glee. He held in his hands an object used by the First Ones; those who were Ageless; those who gave Purpose; those who would bring back Hell on Earth.

--------------------

Gunderson slipped the envelope in his coat pocket as he left Arba's offices. The Master would be giving him new orders soon. He had just enough time to get something to eat before meeting with the Master.

He found himself wondering where Trent had slipped off. The American seemed to bring trouble with him wherever he went. Even before Gunderson had established the Agency, and he and Trent had served in the Foreign Legion together, Trent had a bad habit of digging up trouble. He thought of Japan when—

A sudden pain shot through his skull, and he put a big palm to his forehead, not surprised to find moisture there. His memories of the Foreign Legion were all but lost due to the frequent headaches. He thought perhaps it was Eckhardt's glove, the one he used to control many of his minions, which had done the damage. Gunderson didn't think he would ever know. It was out of his hands. He gave a huff and started for the stairs. The car would be waiting. Trent would contact him in a few days for his next mission. However the way Trent had been carrying on about the Tomb Raider, Gunderson thought perhaps the American needed some time off. The loss of his father and the nearly three years of going through hell were getting to him.

---------------------

Lara Croft had disappeared.

After three days of looking for her, Kurtis gave up. She'd probably gone back to England or went on another tomb raiding adventure. Just like she'd left him alone at the Strahov, she'd left him alone in Turkey. But why didn't she say anything? He thought she would at least have the common courtesy of telling him good-bye.

_No "bye", "kiss my ass", nothing. And she still has my Chirugai!_

Determined to get back his weapon, he phoned Croft Foundation. He didn't care what the time difference was. He was surprised when the secretary picked up on the first ring. He thought her name was Gwenn or Gretchen or something, but couldn't remember.

When he asked to speak with Lara, he wasn't surprised with her answer as to her whereabouts.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Trent," the secretary told him, "She isn't in. She's on an expedition. However, I was told if you were ever to call to give you a message."

Kurtis blinked. _Well, this is new._ "And that is?"

"Your weapon is waiting for you at Croft Manor," the secretary told him. "Winston will give it to you if you decide to come pick it up. Let me give you the number to ring Winston."

-----

_Reviews__always __welcome__. I love constructive criticism. I__ want your honest opinion__ and if I've made any spelling or grammatical errors (so embarras__sing!). If it completely tanks, give me your opinion on what should be done to fix it.__ (Not a guarantee it will/can be fixed.)_

_Up next?__Chapter __4__, of course.__ You didn't think I'd reveal anything did you?_


	5. Chapter 4: You Ain't Seen Nothing

**Tomb Raider: Forgotten Savior**

**By:** The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent and a few others used in this story belong to EIDOS. The original story belongs to me as well as a few characters that are made by me, such as Ahmed Istathir and Arba.

**A/N:** If you've never read this story before, that's good, you aren't missing anything. If you've read this story before, it's been tweaked a bit from its original formula. The chapters up until 3 are the same with a few grammatical errors fixed (or perhaps made worse?) and a sentence or two added here and there for clarification. It's been 3 years, going on 4 since I've done anything with it, and I forgot what was going on. The entire storyline is different (I think) from what was originally planned. (I can't decipher my notes… lol) Chapter 4 is different from its original version. . .

Flashbacks are in _ITALICS_, little dashes delineate change of scene. . .

**Chapter Four: ****You ****Ain't**** Seen Nothing. . .**

**Last time:** _Gunderson turns the artifact, the Martichoras, over to a man named Arba. __Ahmed __Istathir__, who fled to Cappadocia for reasons unknown, discovered Martichoras, or Man-Eater.__ Arba wants it badly enough to kill for it. Gunderson has a Master and Arba is connected to a society called the Covenant. And Lara Croft has disappeared from Kurtis Trent's side. A new twist: Croft Foundation is more forthcoming with information concerning Kurtis' glaive._

_Well, this sucks._ Kurtis looked back at the sprawling grounds of Croft Manor more than a little pissed. Not only was Lara not home (_What else is new?_ he added, ruefully), but also her butler, Winston, had been unable to locate his Chirugai. He sat in the garden on one of the fountains, its water gone, and a thick layer of snow covering it. He had a cigarette between his thin lips.

Lara's friends, Zip and Alister, hadn't been very helpful either. Zip had been busily working on creating his base of operations in the Great Hall. Packing crates, wires and computers had been strewn about the room. Alister had looked briefly, but was called away by a phone message.

Even Gunderson refused to give him the time of day. His last conversation with the big man had been just about all he could handle.

--------------------

_After searching for Croft for three days, Kurtis had finally made it back to the hole in the wall motel room. He was surprised that Gunderson was in the room waiting for him. Neither said anything as Kurtis began to shove stuff into his duffle bag._

"_Where's the notebook, Trent?" Gunderson asked, his grey eyes questioning, probing._

_Kurtis held a sock to his nose, wondering if it was clean or dirty. __"Notebook?"__ The smell hit him hard, and he made a face as he shoved it into the bag._

"_Istathir__ had a notebook," the older man told him, watching him as if he were a small child.__ "Our client wants it."_

_Kurtis' blue eyes met Gunderson's searching grey ones. "Croft has it."_

"_You gave it to Croft?" Gunderson gave no physical evidence that he was surprised, though the tone of his voice was incredulous._

"_No," Kurtis explained as he zipped up the duffle full of clean and dirty clothing. "She saw it first and picked it up. __Didn't have a chance to ask her for it.__Getting shot at and all."_

"_Croft was there?"_

"_Yeah," Kurtis cocked his head to the side, giving a sidelong glance to the larger man. He had told him already, hadn't he? "She met up with me in __Nevsehir__."_

_Gunderson blinked. "Are you alright?"_

_Physically, Kurtis felt fine. A deep hurt twisted his heart however as he thought about the abruptness that Lara had left. He chose not to tell Gunderson his feelings however. Feelings were what got you killed. It didn't matter if Gunderson was a friend or not. Feelings got in the way. __"Never better.__ Why?"_

"I_ met up with you in __Nevsehir__. Raiders attacked us just outside of town near the __Anatola__ dig site. We had to hitchhike back to __Nevsehir__."_

"_The Cabal attacked Croft and I."_

_Gunderson paused and looked at his friend with concern. Only then did he realize just how sickly and pale the younger man looked. "I want you to take a leave of absence," he told him._

_Kurtis took offense. "What!" He was in perfect condition considering all that had happened with the Cabal and Eckhardt._

"_Take some time off, Trent. Then when you can remember what happened, bring in __Istathir's__ notebook."_

_Eyebrows raised in surprise, hands up in defense, Kurtis began, "But I don't—"_

_Gunderson interrupted him in a tone that brooked no argument. "Leave, Trent. You've got two weeks to pull yourself together."_

-----------------------------

Kurtis lit another cigarette, inhaling deeply, willing the cigarette to calm his frazzled nerves. It didn't happen. The cigarette disappeared too fast. He lit another, willing this one, as he had the last six, to give him the peace he so desired. He also hoped it would warm him up a little bit.

He paced back and forth in front of the large iron gate that kept him from getting into the maze garden. Two cameras mounted on either side, made lazy arks back and forth over the area and on the grounds themselves.

He'd already used Farsee ability to look for further devices, and much to his chagrin, the effort in getting past Lara Croft's defense grid and into the room where he'd spied his Chirugai made the Strahov look like a walk in the park. And besides, however angry he thought he was, he didn't want to be on Lara's bad side by breaking into her home and stealing back his weapon. He especially did not want to get caught breaking into her bedroom, the one room no one had chosen to look in.

So he waited. And waited. And waited some more. For her to return and give him a reason for abandoning him in Turkey without so much as a good-bye. Then he would politely ask if he could have his weapon back. Her butler had told him he would have to wait for her to return and gave him an address of a nice bed and breakfast down the road. _Right.__Eighty-three rooms and no room for Kurtis._

He didn't know if he was pissed because she hadn't thought to bring his weapon to Turkey or even have it flown in or if he was pissed because she hadn't told him she was leaving. He opted for the former and hoped to God it wasn't the latter. The latter was dangerous. He was not the type to settle for one woman, and he knew that she wasn't the type to settle for one man.

Or maybe he was pissed because the old timer had brushed him off like he was unimportant. At one time he and Lara had been partners. Did that count for anything? He'd taken on Boaz so that she could get to Eckhardt. He'd trusted her to avenge his father. Or had he simply chickened out? After two years of tracking the bastard, only to chicken out at the last minute? Who really knew?

He sighed, the air steaming in front of his face from the cold. He checked his watch, and then ran a hand through his shaggy hair, irritated that he'd neglected to set his watch to England time.

-------------------------

"He's been here for about three hours, Lara," Alister said conspiratorially into the telephone receiver. Zip looked up from connecting cables wondering if the little nerd was talking about him. He raised an eyebrow and listened.

"What is a Chirugai?" Alister paced in front of fireplace briefly as he listened to her explanation. "Should I do research…? Alright… yes… Yes… No, Zip is connecting his computers. Shall I put him on?"

Zip took the phone from him before Alister before he had a chance to receive the answer from Lara. "Hey, Lara!"

"Zip!" she responded. "How are you?"

"Peachy," he told her, "You on your way home yet?"

"Yes, Gaza was lovely," Lara said brightly, her voice wavering enough that Zip noticed. He thought it was a little too soon for her to be anywhere near Egypt. "I found a wonderful new trinket in the administrative building in the newly unearthed Philistine village. It has a lovely curse to go with it."

Zip shuddered. The last "lovely" cursed amulet Lara had brought home from Egypt had brought a famine and pestilence with it. Locusts had been everywhere. _Everywhere._ "Hope you'll auction it off soon?"

"No," she said, surprising him. "I need another piece and the curse will be gone. I'll be stopping off in Germany."

"Germany?"

"The other piece is in a museum there. They don't know what they have really. Quite exquisite."

Zip didn't ask to which piece she was referring nor did he ask if she was bringing both pieces back with her or leaving her piece with its brethren. The less he knew about it the better.

"That's great," was all he said. "See you in a day or two then?"

"I should be home in about 5 hours. My plane is landing momentarily. Bye then."

"Bye, Lara."

"What's she doing in Germany?" Alister wanted to know, hands on hips.

Zip told him, "Doing a little shopping."

--------------------------

Holding his hands out, Kurtis used his Farsee ability once again. Reality blurred into redness as his mind's eye poured forth and sought out the room where he'd discovered his Chirugai. It lay on a desk with newspaper clippings and something he hadn't noticed before. _The Periapt shards_! It looked like they were in the process of being cleaned and mounted into a display.

He read the inscription on the bottom: "_Tres__periapti__coniuncti__ cum __iustitiae__igne__ mala __cingunt_"

Croft had done her research. He knew that phrase all too well. It had been pounded into his head by his father since he was three. _The three Periapts joined together burn with righteous light to confine evil._ At least it was over. Eckhardt was dead.

As he further explored the room, a newspaper clipping pinned up with some photos of the Monstrum murder scenes caught his attention.

"The notorious Monstrum serial killer has periodically terrorized Paris and other European capitals over the last decade. Characteristic of these brutal attacks are the bizarre metallic eruptions on many parts of the victims bodies. Forensic specialists are mystified by the process."

Lara Croft was certainly a very strange person, he thought as he searched the rest of the room. Cases displayed artifacts of various shapes and sizes all labeled with bizarre names like "Spear of Destiny", "Eye of Anubis", "The Scion", etc. On the wall just above the blazing fireplace was the huge replica of a Tyrannosaurus head. Strangely enough he figured it to be real. Perhaps that was where Lara had gotten her book idea. He chuckled silently at the thought of Gunderson reading her book, _A Tyrannosaur is Jawing at My Head_. Near the window standing about eight feet tall was a hairy man-ape thing that looked like it had been stuffed and mounted. Its hands were clawed and ready to strike, its mouth open ready to scream at its prey. _Bigfoot, maybe?_

Kurtis' mind's eye came rushing back to him as he lost concentration. He grunted and fell to his knees, hugging his middle as a blinding pain hit him. He collapsed in the snow near the bushes beside the iron gate, blood seeping through his shirt and coat, marring the white snow with red.

-------------------------

"Winston?" Lara asked into the receiver attached to her ear. He never called unless it was an emergency. She climbed down the drainage pipe just as quickly as she had climbing up. Thankfully security had been severely lacking. Tucked in her backpack was the other half of the amulet she had discovered in the Philistine village earlier that day.

Winston's grave voice confirmed her fears. "Have you found what you were looking for, Miss?"

She hopped on her Husqvarna, ready to turn on the engine. "Just now, I'm heading to the airport."

"It would be wise for you to hurry home then," he told her, some urgency in his wizened voice. "Your unexpected visitor is bleeding all over the Persian in the foyer." And with that the line went dead.

"Lovely."

-----

_Reviews__always __welcome__. I love constructive criticism. I__ want your honest opinion__ and if I've made any spelling or grammatical errors (so embarras__sing!). If it completely tanks, give me your opinion on what should be done to fix it.__ (Not a guarantee it will/can be fixed.)_

_Up next?__Chapter__ 5__, of course.__ You didn't think I'd reveal anything did you?_


	6. Chapter 5: Magic Carpet Ride

**Tomb Raider: Forgotten Savior**

**By:** The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent and a few others used in this story belong to EIDOS. The original story belongs to me as well as a few characters that are made by me, such as Ahmed Istathir and Arba.

**A/N:** OMG – has it really been almost 3 years since I've done anything with this story?? I'm not going to apologize. I've got excuses (no time, working on my science fiction novel, moving three states away, computer crash, lost notes, writer's block, life... HA! so there...).

Thanks MadameLeRouge for the kind PM. I played the game again and I've decided to get it in gear and give a little update. . . wait, did I just say "little"? Let's try this again: The story line has completely changed from my original plans. Chapters up until 3 are the same with a few grammatical errors fixed (or perhaps made worse?) and a sentence or two added here and there for clarification. Chapter 4 is where the major changes take place. Before reading this chapter, I would suggest going back over it again. I've added Alister and Zip just because I enjoyed their banter whilst playing Legend. Thus far they are the only reference to Legend (I think). I may add a few other references, but so far I've left it alone and focused on AOD.

BTW – Forgive the shortness of the chapter – I didn't want to reveal too much… Another chapter coming this weekend.

Flashbacks are in _ITALICS_, little dashes delineate change of scene. . . And, I am still terrible at flashbacks…

**Chapter Five: Magic Carpet Ride**

**Last Time: **_Gunderson gives Kurtis some time off as it appears Lara was never in Turkey. So who has the Martichoras Notebook? Kurtis goes to England to get his Chirugai only to find that Lara has gone on another excursion. Zip, Alister and Winston aren't very helpful. Winston phones Lara to let her know that a bleeding visitor has arrived._

Lara arrived at the manor nearly crashing through the iron gate that stood between her and her home. At the last minute she pushed the remote button and the gate creaked open, the Ashton Marten nearly losing its side mirrors at the closeness of it.

One couldn't really say that she parked the car. It was more of a stopping, slamming the gears into park and jumping out of the car. She reached under the seat and withdrew a Wilkes and Hawkins Black Demon .32 followed by its twin. Knowing that they were loaded, she clicked off the safety on each gun and took a cleansing breath to calm herself before the storm.

She raced up the steps to her front door, her pistols out in front of her. The door opened, surprising her. Her aging butler was just as surprised.

"Oh, my!" he gasped.

"Winston!" Lara holstered her weapons. "What's going on?"

Winston, taking a breath to regain his composure, told her, "A Mr. Kurtis Trent stopped by, Miss." He allowed her entry, gesturing graciously. "He stayed for several hours out back before climbing the gate into the garden."

"Is he bleeding mad?" she asked, noting the blood on the Foyer Persian rug, more irritated than concerned. Her mother had bought that. "How did he get into the Foyer?"

Alister filled her in as he came to greet her with Zip. "Apparently, he scaled the wall into the front. It was most difficult getting any information from the man."

"He fell as he was comin' down," Zip said.

"Mr. Trent punctured his abdomen on a sharp corner of a statue," Winston told her. Lara blinked. _Scaled the wall? Fell? Punctured?_ This did not sound like her partner at the Strahov.

Alister continued, "Kurtis knocked on the front door and when Winston answered it, he promptly fainted."

"He's been patched up and is resting in the East Wing," Winston finished.

"'Patched up?'" Lara inquired, eyebrow raised incredulously. "He's not hospitalized?"

"He refused to." Zip shrugged.

"Yes," Alister said. "Apparently he's been in and out of the hospital for the past year. Something about an impaling in Prague."

"Impaling?" Lara was confused. She had shot Kurtis in the shoulder in the Strahov, thinking she could save him and not give the up the painting. Instead, things had turned out for the worst.

--------------------

_"My patience wears thin, Ms. Croft," Eckhardt rasped angrily, shaking his gloved hand at her. She gazed up at the madman, wanting everything to be over and done with. The past few days were beginning to catch up with her. The doors began to open, the darkness behind them making her uneasy. What looked like a human was cocooned just under the belly skin, only its hideous head gaping out at her._

_"I will kill Mr. Trent, Ms. Croft," Eckhardt warned. Gunderson shook the unconscious form of Kurtis. Kurtis's blue eyes opened, met hers._

_"Don't give him the painting!" he shouted. "He can't be allowed to—"_

_Eckhardt struck Kurtis across the face, effectively silencing him momentarily. __"You worthless piece of dross!__ I will get that painting!" He turned and shouted to Lara, "Throw me the painting or the Lux Veritatis monk will die!"_

_"He's already stolen one painting from me," Lara said, eying the creature as it made its way toward her. She leveled her right gun at it, the other she aimed at Kurtis's shoulder. _In order to save the village, burn the village, huh?_ Kurtis' voice brushed her mind intimately._

Forgive me, Kurtis,_ she told his presence in her mind._

There's nothing to forgive. Get it over with. Then destroy the painting.

_She hesitated, noticing something in her peripheral vision._

_Mueller!_

_With a speed she didn't know the fat botanist had, he hit her over the back of the head with something blunt. Both guns went off simultaneously, the right gun's bullet catching the monster in the mouth. It roared as she went down. It swiped the air where she'd stood, impaling the obese scientist behind her. He soon disappeared to its ravenous appetite. She saw stars, her vision cloudy._

_"Joachim! __Get that__ painting from her before Boaz eats her!"_

_Heavy boots landed beside her head. __"Easy, Boaz."__ She heard nothing more after that as blackness overcame her._

-----

_Reviews__always __welcome__. I love constructive criticism. I__ want your honest opinion__ and if I've made any spelling or grammatical errors (so embarras__sing!). If it completely tanks, give me your opinion on what should be done to fix it.__ (Not a guarantee it will/can be fixed.)_

_Up next?__ Chapter__6__, of course.__ You didn't think I'd reveal anything did you?_


	7. Chapter 6: Purple Haze

**Tomb Raider: Forgotten Savior**

**By:** The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent, Winston, Alister & Zip, and a few others used in this story belong to EIDOS. The original story belongs to me as well as a few characters that are made by me, such as Ahmed Istathir and Arba. Dools was taken from TR: The Lost Cult, although it's been such a long time since I've read it that I can't remember much about him. He belongs to EIDOS, too.

**A/N:** Flashbacks are in _ITALICS_, little dashes delineate change of scene. . . Two flashbacks this go 'round. . .

Extra special thanks goes out to MadameLeRouge for proofreading. **_does a happy dance_**

(ff has done something funky to my punctuation, however. . . )

**Chapter Six****: Purple Haze**

**Last Time: **_Lara picks up two new unrevealed trinkets in Gaza and Germany. Meanwhile, Kurtis falls outside of Croft Manor and injures himself while using __Farsee__. Now it seems that all was not as it appeared at the Strahov. At the Strahov, Lara tried to protect the painting by shooting Kurtis, but her plan went AWOL and she ended up blacking out._

--------

"Was he impaled at the Strahov?" Alister asked, pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose.

"No," Lara said, "I shot him in the shoulder. She related the story to her friends…

--------

_When __Lara__ aw__oke__, she didn't know how long she'd been out. She heard gunshots and rose quickly, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. __It wasn't so much a blinding pain in the back of her skull as a dull ache. __From her kneeling position, s__he peered about__ the chamber__, her vision cloudy, her head swimming__. Her backpack felt lighter than before. __Reaching behind her, she found that h__er __pack was empty__ of most of its contents. They'd taken the painting!_

Bloody hell.

_Kurtis ran past her. "Get up, Lara! Move! Move! Move!"_

_Lara didn't hesitate, grabbing her pistols as she surged to her feet. Boaz's roar spurned her on. She sprinted to reach Kurtis's position and turned and fired at the beast as it lumbered behind them._

_"How long have I been out?" she asked him__, guns smoking before her._

_"No more than five__ minutes." He clutched his shoulder and fired his weapon. He was bleeding from a large wound in his shoulder._

_Lara's eyes widening in alarm__ she__ rush__ed to him and applied__ pressure to the wound, blood oozing over her fingertips. __"We've got to get that bandaged!"_

_"No time, big ugly wants dessert.__" He pushed her roughly aside as the monstrous Boaz spider charged at them__, dousing the area with a plume of noxious green goop. __Lara__ did a double somersault to get out of the way followed by three graceful back flips._

_Kurtis whistled low, appreciatively. __He wagged his brows at her. She hated to admit how much __his admiration cheered her. Lara had to__ force herself not to __curtsey, but __she __smiled just the same.__ It was then, with certain clarity, she knew that she could face another ancient tomb. _I'm back_, she thought, her guns now aimed on Boaz and firing away, a small smile of satisfaction creeping into her face._ Perhaps, I'll revisit Egypt when I've finished this business_. She leapt up and over as the mutant spider took a swing at her with its tail._

_It suddenly started rocking side to side as though injured.__ Confused, she looked at Kurtis._

_"Hit those pockets on its side," Kurtis said leaping out of the way of the swinging beast. __"__When they bust, they slow it__ down. Nothing else phases it."_

_"Right. You take the left side, I'll take the right."_

_"On three."_

_"Three!" they shouted in unison. Both __smiled and fired on the pu__s pockets on its sides. __After that, the beast was taken care of with ease.__ It gave a final, anguished cry before slumping._

_"We've got to get to Eckhardt before he awakens the Sleeper," Kurtis said, cupping his hands. "I'll give you a boost. Hang on."_

_"On to what?" Lara just barely managed before he threw her into the air and used his power to thrust her to the upper level. She landed hard and rolled, her shoulder wrenching painfully. Managing to get up as quickly as she could, she rushed to the edge of the platform. Surprise siphoned the blood from her face. To her utter dismay, t__he true Boaz __creature had __extricated itself from its spider__y__ confines, __and now __the hideous harpy-like cre__ature buzzed on gossamer wings__ above Kurtis' head._

_"Kurtis!" she screamed as the flying Boaz insect lunged for Kurtis with__ its razor sharp lance-like arms,__ screeched like a banshee__. Kurtis back flipped over the creature in time, using his telekinetic powers to push himself higher and at the same time reached out and pushed the creature away from himself.__ Lara could only stare wordlessly down at him, her heart pounding. She was amazed at the thrill he gave her as she watched him fight for his life._

_"We don't have time for this," Kurtis said__, his mouth dipped into an even deeper frown. __She could have sworn she heard him say, "I'm taking a vacation after this."__ He fired__ a few shots__ at Boaz, __and then__ looked up at __Lara;__ his eyes caught and held hers.__ "I'll take care of ugly and catch up with you. Here." He threw her the three Periapt shards._

_Lara caught them __only __because she had to. __"These are your __specialty__, Kurtis,__"__ she told him, noting the weight of them in her palms._

_"This shouldn't take long. I'll catch up with you.__ Save me some of Eckhardt's hide, would you?__"_

_"Right." __She nodded__, tucked them into her pack__ and hurried off._

_Lara would come back to find his flying disc soaking in a pool of blood._

--------

"So, why did Kurtis say he was impaled?" Zip wanted to know.

"Maybe it happened after I left?" Lara suggested with a shrug. "He never did catch up with me. I had to face Eckhardt and Karel by myself." She walked off towards the East Wing, Alister and Zip in tow.

Lara entered the bedroom without a sound. Kurtis slept uneasily in the middle of the large four poster bed. The bed was not as impressive as her own, but she felt quite certain Kurtis wouldn't complain. He was sprawled out, head back, mouth wide open, legs and feet hopelessly entangled in the bed sheets. Lara found herself wondering what it would be like to curl up next to him, but banished the thought almost immediately, shocked that she would be thinking such a thing about a man she barely knew. Especially when he looked so uncomfortable.

And then there was the fact that said man may not be a man at all but a Nephilim disguised as a man she barely knew. That thought brought her very little comfort indeed, and she rested her palms on the Black Demons strapped to her thighs. Though the Demons gave her a small respite, she watched Kurtis's form warily.

Zip and Alister entered after her, although not as quietly. Kurtis stirred in his sleep, but did not awaken. He gave a shout, startling Alister, who jumped behind Zip. As amusing as it was, Lara kept her face neutral, her eyes never leaving Kurtis' face.

"How is he?" Zip asked, touched her elbow lightly, urging but protective.

"Sleeping," she told him, pulling an antique chair over to the bed. She sat in the chair, crossed her lithe legs, and watched Kurtis breathe slow, easy breaths a moment, her thin fingers tensed in her lap. "Tell me again, how he got himself into this predicament."

"He was ranting, really," Alister said, pulling up another chair as he had no wish to sit on the bed next to the injured man. He was very certain that Kurtis Trent was not right in the head. Alister may have been only an archeologist, but he knew psychosis when he saw it. He'd only been employed for a short time, since just after her stint in Prague, but he felt quite certain, Lara could kick this man's arse if she had to. "Kurtis said that he'd met you a year ago when you were in Paris."

Zip joined them by rolling in another chair and settling into its worn cushions. "But that wasn't a year ago," he interjected, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, his fingers interlaced between his knees.

Lara nodded in agreement. She rested her chin between her forefinger and thumb, leaned against the chair's arm. "What I can't figure out is the time difference. It's been less than three months since that time. You say he's adamant about a year difference?"

"It's what he said," Alister told her. "Loss of blood perhaps?"

"It's plausible."

"I must say, I'm just as perplexed as you with this entire situation," Alister said. "To think, you were almost accused of murdering Von Croy, your old professor from Cambridge."

"That was the work of the Monstrum," Lara said, her jade-spoked brown eyes clouding in irritation, "of Eckhardt, or Karel. Whomever. Whichever. It makes no difference to me. Monstrum is the proper word for him. The Periapt shards took care of Eckhardt, and I handled Karel."

Her mood veered sharply to anger. She rose fluidly from the chair, paced the floor vehemently, her body tense. Zip and Alister were silent while her anger abated. Alister shifted nervously in his seat. He hated it when she was angry. Things got violent. Some things ended up crushed, others dead. _Dreadful, really._ Zip, who'd been working for Lara longer, leaned back and fit his fingers together behind his head.

"You were never accused of murdering your old professor," Zip told her, noticing Alister's fidgeting, hoping to quell his employer's anger. _The little nerd might just wet himself right there._

"No, but he_ was_ murdered by a madman," she said, anger lacing her words. She remembered the bloody crime scene she's walked into.

--------

_"Dools?" Lara asked the brusque looking Irishman who stood talking to the French gendarmes. Interpol Inspector Dools did not look happy to see her. He never looked happy to see Lara Croft. It had been quite some time since they'd last spoken, but as __usual it had involved a dead body. She wasn't exactly happy t__o see him either. __The__ healing bruise beneath her eye from the collapse of the temple in Egypt__ would tell him she'd been in more trouble.__ But there were the pesky paparazzi shouting to world of her so-called death. She wondered briefly if he would question her "miraculous" return._

_Dools hadn't changed much since the last time she'd spoken with him. He was tall, rawboned, and beardless, with an ingenuously nondescript face. It was though he was made for undercover work. His primary feature was his large ruddy nose.__ Dools was much older than she was; his graying temples and deep-set, lined face a testament not only to age, but a lifetime of violent crimes throughout Europe._

_"I hope you have nothing to do __with this, Croft," he told her, his Irish brogue accented voice as brutish as usual, __as she removed her Oakley's__ to peer at him in the dim light of the apartment building__. If he noticed her bruise, he said nothing._

_"I should say not," she responded__, tucking her glasses in__to__ her denim jacket pocket__. "I am just arriving."_

_"Then you won't mind a few questions?"_

_"Of course, not." She gave her most charming smile. "I've always had time for my favorite INTERPOL friend."_

_Dools only harrumphed and took out his notepad and a pen.__ They both knew that "friend" was a bit of stretch.__ It was more like a several hundred kilometers__ dash.__"Private plane?"__ he inquired._

_"The ferry __and a taxi were__ faster."_

_"The bruise?" Ah, so he did notice._

_"Collapsed temple in Egypt."_

_He looked up sharply, studied her face intensely. __"What brings you to Paris?"_

_"Business.__ Meeting with a friend__," Lara told him__, her face remaining neutral__. Only then she realized that it was Von Croy's apartment that had crime scene tape over the door. "Oh, dear. What's happened?" _

_Dools wrote more in his notepad. "You're here to see Professor__W__erner__ Von Croy?"_

_"Yes," she said, trying to get a better look__ inside Von Croy's apartment. "__He contacted me yesterday, scared out of his mind. Said to come quickly and that he needed my help."_

_"And you rushed right over?"_

_"No, I had a doctor's appointment earlier this morning and postponed my visit __to Werner's __until this evening."__ She dug into her backpack. "I filled this prescription at the apothecary before heading over."_

_The coroner chose at that time to bring out Von Croy's body, zipped in a waterproof white bag. She took an abrupt step towards the gurney. Dools noticed this a__nd made a note of it on his pad. The Interpol inspector asked another question, but it was a buzz in her ears. Von Croy had been a friend. His instruction after the death of her father had formed a bond between__ them__, no matter if Von Croy was possessed by an evil Egyptian spirit. And once she'd escaped the temple, a news reel __in Cairo had told her the truth: Von Croy had__ search__ed__ desperately for her at the temple. It had taken him some effort to assemble a crew together to excavate the heavily damaged area where he'd last seen her. A stab of guilt lay buried in her breast. She should have come straight away. What would have happened if she had come earlier?_

_"Ms. Croft?" Dools sounded impatient. His accusing gaze was riveted on her. Lara only looked at him sadly._

_"I should have come yesterday," she replied in a low, tormented voice. "I might have prevented this."_

_"And raised the body count, no doubt."_

_Dools knew her too well. __She allowed a small, but sad smile to flicker across her lips. __"Perhaps."_

_"How long have you known the Professor?"_

_"All of my professional career and most of my life. He is—was a colleague of my father's."_

_"I want you to interpret some writing." Dools gestured for her to enter the apartment. Hesitant, Lara nodded and entered first. What she saw made her knees want to buckle. She may have gone up against a great many things during her career, monsters and the like, but nothing prepared her for Von Croy's apartment. __Pools of blood, shards of__ glass, broken furniture littered the floor. A strange language was written across the wall in __what appeared __red__ paint.__ From the metallic odor of the room, however, she discerned it to be blood._

_"Ms. Croft," Dools said,__ interrupting her thoughts,__ "what you see here is not to be discussed."_

_She moved to the fireplace,__ but something crunched beneath her boot. Lara__ stopped and picked it __up,__brushed off the shattered glass. It was a picture of Lara and Werner on a dig in Egypt. She sud__denly wanted to shoot something. Calmly, she walked to a nearby table next to the fireplace, gingerly placed the picture frame there. Lightning __crackled across the sky, turning night to day momentarily, and Lara got a good look at her reflection. The woman who stared back at her was not Lara Croft, but a shell of woman. And the shell was angry. Her dark eyes, alit with fire __only killing something would squelch, __darted to those of the inspector. "Tell me that's paint on the wall," she ordered._

_Dools was silent a moment. "Can you decipher it?"_

_"No,"__ she told him, her reply deceptively calm__. "But it does look vaguely familiar. Similar to the form found on__ tablets at __Easter Island. But I've never seen or read anything about the sacrifices there being so, so brutal."_

_Dools made to ask another question, but a gendarme approached him, a slip of paper in hand. __"__Monsieur, nous avons trouvé ceci sur le bureau."__ He gave it to Dools. __"__Il est adressé à mlle.__ Lara Croft. Vous devriez le lire."_

_Dools scanned the paper as requested by the gendarme, then looked up at her, the lines about his eyes and mouth punctuating his irritation. __Lara willed her face to remain __neutral__, lest they suspect she spoke fluent French. The paper was found on Von Croy's desk and it was addressed to her._

_"What do you know of this?" To her surprise and delight, Dools passed the paper over to her._

_Lara scanned it:_

To: Lara Croft

Professor Margot Carvier

Department of Medieval and Renaissance Studies, The Louvre

8, rue Galvani

Paris

She'll be expecting you. She has a package for you.

Forgive me for Egypt.

Werner

_Lara's breath caught in her throat. Who was this woma__n?_

_Dools echoed the question in her mind._

_"I haven't the foggiest," she told him__, handed the paper back to him after memorizing the address__. "I'll be heading there straight away. Especially if she's expecting me. Let's hope that whoever did this to poor __W__erner hasn't gotten to her first."_

_Dools seemed to actually pale, his bulbous red nose turning a sickly shade of pink._

-------

Kurtis fought desperately in his sleep, pulling Lara out of her reverie. He screamed and tossed about, shouting incoherently, many phrases were in Latin, some in French. Nothing he shouted made any sense. Lara heard three different phrases for help and acted impulsively.

"You say he only fell and wounded his middle?" she asked, rushing to Kurtis's side. Zip and Alister nodded, mutely. Lara bounded onto the bed and sat on top of Kurtis's chest, pinning his thrashing arms. "Zip, hold his legs!

"Kurtis, wake up! Kurtis, its Lara! Wake up!"

Kurtis's blue eyes flew open, half wild, half clouded from sleep. He stopped moving, getting his bearings, peering around the room as best he could while still pinned by both Lara and Zip. Memories once whole splintered, fragmenting outward, out of reach. Everything was masked beneath an impenetrable purple fog. Where the hell was he?

"Lara?" he asked finally, his blue eyes piercing hers.

Lara put her hands on her hips and replied saucily, "In the flesh."

"Where am I?" He shifted uncomfortably beneath her slight weight, took in her panted thighs, twin pistols, cable-knit sweatered midriff and breasts, her fine-boned face. Kurtis didn't know if he should be relieved to see her or angry with her for – for what? Again he reached out for his memories, willing them whole, frustrated that they remained fragmented and just out of his grasp, unattainable.

He couldn't remember how he'd gotten to wherever he was or why Lara was atop him. Not that he minded the latter that much. Until one of her Wilkes and Hawkins Black Demons pressed against the center of his forehead, the coolness of the barrel extinguishing any feeling he might have been inclined to feel.

_Well, shit._

"Welcome to England." She gave him a broad smile, her brown eyes sparkling with the love of combat.

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_OK. Me no Frenchy. All French was translated with Alta Vista Babel Fish._

_You know the drill: Tell me what you think! Love it, hate it, confused, just because... tap the little review button thinghy..._

_Up next? Chapter__7__, of course.__ You didn't think I'd reveal anything did you?_


	8. Chapter 7: Ramblin Man

**Tomb Raider: Forgotten Savior**

**By:** The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent, Winston, Alister & Zip, and a few others used in this story belong to EIDOS. The original story belongs to me as well as a few characters that are made by me, such as Ahmed Istathir and Arba. Warsaw Clinic was featured in TR: The Lost Cult; Lara basically destroyed it whilst trying to escape mercenaries.

**A/N:** Flashbacks are in _ITALICS_, little dashes delineate change of scene. . . Special thankies to MadameLeRouge for the proofread, but I'm blaming ff for the funky punctuation... oy...

**Chapter Seven: ****Ramblin****' Man**

**Last Time: **_Lara c__o__me__s__ home to find an injured Kurtis__, ravin__g like a lunatic to her friends__. Relating what really happen__ed__ to her in Paris to her friends, she wonders if the strangely-acting Lux Veritatis warrior is really a Nephilim in disguise. Meanwhile, a confused Kurtis awakens to find a busty, gun-toting brunette pinning him to a bed__ and h__e has no idea how he got there._

_----_

Kurtis's blue eyes widened a fraction. "Lara?" he inquired, felt an unexpected, unwelcome twisting in his heart. "What are you doing?"

"Insurance," she said, giving Kurtis's forehead a slight tap with the pistol barrel. Triumph flooded her when he winced. "Nothing more."

He waited, challenging her to go through with it. She'd almost shot before hadn't she? In the Sanitarium? Kurtis couldn't make heads or tails of anything. Feeling a crushing weight on him that he knew was definitely not the woman on his chest (though she _was_ beginning to restrict the air and blood flow to, well everything), he fumbled with his slippery thoughts as they evaporated, leaving him but a husk of his former self.

_Suffocated by a busty brunette in bed?_ Kurtis found himself thinking. With a mental roll of his eyes, he added, _sure, why not?__ Always knew women were nothing but trouble._

"Can't breathe," he finally managed.

Lara wasn't having any of it. "Too bad. When you've finally managed to tell me what the bloody hell is going on, then I'll let you up. Not a moment before. Are we clear?"

"Seriously, Lara." Panic vaguely touched his senses, and he began to struggle. "No air."

"Oh, for heaven sakes." Lara rolled her eyes and lifted slightly, her pelvis much closer to him now. Kurtis sucked in as much air as possible, careful to look anywhere but _there_.

"Seems he was being truthful, dear," Winston spoke up gently from where he stood at the door. She looked at her beloved butler and then back down at the man wedged between her and the bed, her brows drawing together as she studied him. He hadn't changed since she'd seen him last in the inner depths of the Strahov. There was still an inherent strength in his face, rugged and boldly handsome. The deeper shadow of his beard gave him an even more manly aura. His eyes were just as blue and just as compelling, magnetic even, as they had been when he'd first disarmed her in the Louvre.

"Look, as much as I'm enjoying the view," Kurtis said, with a grin, "would you let me up? I'm awake already."

Lara squinted down at him, snapping her mouth shut, stunned by his bluntness. Across her tanned and beautiful face, a dim flush raced like a fever as she fought to control her embarrassment. She refrained from further injuring him by dismounting his chest as though he were a horse, letting him up without so much a snarky comment. He only stared, complete surprise on his face.

He sat up on his elbows, took in the room and Lara's associates, looked at the black man wrapped around his legs. "Kurtis Trent," he offered.

"I know who you are, man," the other said, releasing his legs and stepping back and behind Lara. Kurtis thought it rather amusing, but, after all, Lara was the one who was armed.

"Yeah, but you are--?" he pressed, only knowing Lara.

All present in the room looked at him as though he had grown fangs and sprouted wings. The mental image of Boaz floated briefly at the back of his mind and Kurtis shrugged off the uneasy feeling.

"You don't know Zip?" Lara asked. He stiffened at the question. "You met him and Alister earlier, ranting though you were."

_Ranting?_ He never ranted. _Unless it involves__ alcohol._ Which reminded him he really needed a drink. Panic surged through Kurtis. He hadn't been out drinking with these people had he? Massaging his temples, he glanced at the skinny, brainy looking one, a stray thought betting he could drink that one under the table easily.

"Uh," was all he could utter, shaking his head slightly, trying to clear the irrational thoughts. "Look, I'm not sure of anything at the moment. I can't seem to remember much. And what I do remember is incredibly fuzzy. I remember Boaz. Going to Turkey for some reason. Talking with Gunderson."

Lara arched an eyebrow, raised both guns to his skull. "Gunderson?"

"Gunderson got me out of the Strahov," he said, wondering if it were true or not. "I think. Stuck me in a hospital."

"I looked for you for days," she told him, not sure if she were more irked that he didn't appear phased by her weapons or that he could possibly be lying to her. "In all the hospitals in the area."

"In Poland?"

"Poland?" Alister asked. "Why on earth—"

"Gunderson brought you to the Warsaw clinic?" Lara interrupted, her weapons wavering as she thought it over. It made sense. She wouldn't have thought to look that far away. But she supposed if they needed to patch him up without making a fuss, then that would be the best place to take him. Vaguely, she wondered how Gunderson got him across the borders without causing a commotion. Of course, he was the head of the Agency. It was his specialty to get to places quietly. She regretted shooting up the clinic trying to get away from mercenaries.

Trent nodded, eyed the woman before him, the guns in her hands. "I think so. They didn't ask any questions, his belly doing a curious flip." Then he remembered a detail that had escaped him, latching onto it as though his life depended on it. "You visited me. Told me to contact you."

"Never happened."

Kurtis was more confused than ever. "Then I don't know if I was there or if I was elsewhere.

"Were you with me in Turkey?"

Lara shook her head in the negative, wondering what the hell he was talking about. "I've not been to Turkey in a very long time," she told him, looked thoughtful a moment. "Wait. Alister, Zip, one of you fetch my field notebook from the car."

Alister was ready to escape the confusion. "I'll go," he said and all but ran from the room.

"You have Istathir's notebook?" Kurtis asked, the haze slowly lifting, his memories clearing only slightly. The smoky tendrils were slowly fading away.

"Istathir?" Zip asked. "You mean Professor Ahmed Istathir? The curator dude that never showed up to meet Lara?"

_Uh, oh._

"Raiders got to him in Cappadocia," Kurtis told them, saying the words tentatively as if testing the idea. "If it wasn't Lara who was with me, it may have been Gunderson."

Lara stared at him, bewilderment etched across her face. Finally she clucked her tongue and said, "Well, that's different." She holstered her weapons but was ready to draw them again if she had to.

"What is?" Zip asked, took a seat, noting Lara's tenseness.

"I've been compared to a goddess, but never a hulking brutish bulldog of a man." She dropped her lashes quickly to hide the disappointment she felt at the comparison. Zip repressed a laugh.

"Vain, Croft?" Kurtis asked, one brow raised, a smirk forming on his lips.

She swallowed hard, tried not to reveal her anger. Ignoring his jibe, she asked, "What was Istathir doing in Turkey?"

He hesitated, measuring her for a moment. "I was just there to get the artifact."

"The artifact?" Her face paled. "The Man-Eater? You're the bloody bastard who stole it?" Her face twisted in anger, and she drew her Black Demons again.

Kurtis threw up his hands, blue eyes wide, his strong face a tableau of alarm. A wave of apprehension swept through him as he cried, "Hey, he stole it first!" He regretted the words instantly.

"He most definitely did not," she answered, her tone as cold as bucket of ice water. "He was bringing it to Germany, to his museum, to me!"

The Demon Hunter frowned, his azure eyes level under drawn brows. _Oh, naturally._

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_How about a review?_

_Up next?__Chapter __8__, of course._


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